


Blur

by cradle



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Drugs, Episode: s02e01 A Scandal in Belgravia, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, The Woman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cradle/pseuds/cradle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Go to sleep. I’m right here, we can deal with all this,” he gestured vaguely at their entwined legs, “tomorrow.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blur

**Author's Note:**

> WIP - Getting back in the habit of writing 2,000 words a day - so hopefully I can actually keep up with updates and finish this and Gardens.

Blur

 

 _You got that from one look? Definitely the new sexy._ Sherlock groaned heavily and rolled onto his side. _Hush, now. It’s ok. I’m only returning your coat._ He started as his eyes flew open, surprised by his elevated heart beat.

“Jawn?” He slurred stupidly. Half of his face was still a bit numb from the hallucinogen. He worked his mouth as he squirmed into a sitting position causing the room to spin in a blur of dark beiges and greens.  “John!” He called again, his tongue feeling heavy and useless in his mouth. There was still no answer. Sherlock tried to swing his gangly legs out from under the covers and onto the floor but his limbs ignored directions and tangled with the sheets, casting the man onto the floor.

The bedroom door opened.

“You ok?” John asked, eyebrows raised.

“How did I get here?”

“Oh, well,” John scratched his ear distractedly “I don’t suppose you remember much, you weren’t making a lot of sense.”  Sherlock nodded without looking up, his eyes were busy darting about the room. “And I should warn you, I think Lestrade filmed you on his phone.”

“Where is she?” Sherlock panted as he rose, swaying to his feet.

“Where’s who?

“The woman, that woman.”

“What Woman?”

“ _The_ Woman! The Woman, woman!”

“Oh, you mean Irene Adler? She got away no-one saw her.” Sherlock stumbled over to peer out his darkened window, struggling to maintain his balance. If he looked at anything in the room too long it started to warp and drip like wet paint. John stared at Sherlock from the doorway and moved around the room his movements slow and clumsy.

“She wasn’t here, Sherlock.” Sherlock dropped to the floor with a thud and scrambled for the bed, trying to see anything or anyone hiding in the shadows.

“What-what are you-? What?” John walked over to Sherlock and hooked his arms under the others shoulders. “No, no, no. No, back to bed.” He pulled Sherlock off the floor and laid him down as gracefully as he could. He wasn’t able to untangle himself in time and fell under Sherlock’s weight.

He grunted as his arm wan pinned beneath his friends quivering body.

“Come on, roll this way, that’s it,” he soothed as he shifted Sherlock to remove his arm.  Sherlock faced him now and was gazing dazedly up at John. John felt a sudden wave of fondness for Sherlock and absentmindedly pushed his curls off his damp forehead. Sherlock blinked like he was staring into a pair of headlights and met John’s eyes. Without thinking, John slid his hand down Sherlock’s face and cupped his chin lightly.

“You’ll be fine in the morning. Just sleep.” There was a mumbled response and John made to get up but stopped when he felt a pressure on his hand. He looked down at Sherlock clutching is hand. The two stared at each other for a moment and then before John knew what was happening, he was being pulled onto the bed and into Sherlock’s arms. He gasped as their lips pressed clumsily together and Sherlock’s scent washed over him like a cold wave. His mind was helpless, completely overloaded with shock and lust and _god_ , his clever hands moving over his back, it was incredible and-

John snapped out of his stupor and pushed himself away from Sherlock gasping.

“Sher- I cant. You’re out of your bloody mind!” Sherlock scoffed as he trailed a hand down John’s outer thigh.

“Of course I am! I may be drugged senseless but I still know what I want.” He slid a finger through one of John’s belt loops and tugged. John’s face burned and Sherlock chuckled darkly. “Please John, I’m not stupid. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you.”

“Oh, please, don’t flatter yourself Sherlock.” John scoffed. “This is mad, you don’t really want to do this. Just go to sleep, you’ll be fine in the morning.”

“I am fine.” He growled as he grabbed John by the shirt collar. He pulled him down so their noses were nearly touching. John bit his lip as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. “I am more the fine, John.” Sherlock stated in a low voice. John could feel the pale eyes boring into his own, trying to read his mind, the way only Sherlock could.

“In fact, I’ve wanted to experiment with this for ages.” John raised an eyebrow, trying to look aloof rather then desperately aroused. 

“You mean, you, you… me?”

“To be frank, I’ve actually been too nervous to try to persuade you though. You do such wonders for my thinking; I couldn’t have you running off because of me. No, that wouldn’t do at all. “ He tugged slightly at John’s collar and their noses touched. John blinked rapidly trying to clear his head, but those impossibly perfect eyes were drawing him in and making all coherent thoughts a mess.

“So, John Watson, since you seem to think I am so far gone from my right self what’s to stop you from enjoying yourself? I am obviously more than willing and if in the morning, if you wish never to speak of it again, fine. Who’s to say I’ll even remember.”

John gaped at him. “Unless you want to remind me again. I wouldn’t be opposed. To be honest, I’m quite fond of you John but that doesn’t mean I need a physical relationship. Again, not opposed, but I know how you struggle so with your sexuality. Wouldn’t want to make life any harder for you now would I?”

John laughed nervously, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“You make my life difficult? Oh you are too kind Sherlock, really.” Sherlock licked his lips. John sighed and pushed his forehead against Sherlock’s. 

“You bastard.” John felt a hand on his side and shivered.

“It that a yes then?” John closed his eyes and thought.

“Sherlock, are you sure? I’m still not convinced that you can think straight. Irene Adler did this to you after all; god knows what hormones and chemicals are mixed up in your blood right now. “

Sherlock pushed John onto his back and turned on his side to fumble with his nightstand. 

“I can prove it!” He chuckled as he pulled a rumpled jumper out. John stared at the familiar off white wool.

“You’re mad.”

“Am I?” Sherlock sighed as he fell dramatically back onto the pillows. John propped himself on his side and gazed down at his devastatingly handsome flatmate. He gripped John’s long lost jumper in his hand as if he were afraid John was going to snatch it back.

“Yes, quite. How long have you this?” John continued “I’ve been looking for it for ages.” Sherlock didn’t answer, he just stared vacantly at the ceiling. John frowned and shook his shoulder gently.

“Sherlock,” he said softly and Sherlock blinked in response.

“Hm? Oh, since that weekend you went to visit Harry. I was bored. Really bored.” He suddenly rolled onto his side towards John and rested his head against the other man’s chest.

“Oh honestly John, I’ve, just.” The rest of his sentence was too slurred for John to make out.

“Come here you,” he said gently as he pulled Sherlock closer to him.

“Just fuck me already John. I can never say the right thing when I’m sober, it’s pathetic.” He gripped John’s hip tightly but John ignored him and stroked his wild curls.

“Hush now. You haven’t said anything wrong and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Sherlock nuzzled John’s neck affectionately. 

“But you’re not going to sleep with me.” It was a statement not a question.  His voice was crestfallen despite his wandering hands. John suspected he wasn’t even really aware he was caressing the small of his back.

“Not in the way you mean, no.” John could see Sherlock began to pout and quickly continued. “But, I will stay with you tonight if you want.” Sherlock nodded solemnly.

“I would like that. You make me feel safe. Which is astounding considering the amount of awful secrets I’ve just poured out to you.” John smiled slightly and shifted so he could rearrange the twisted sheets. Once they were in their rightful order he pulled them up over himself and Sherlock, both still fully dressed, John’s jumper nestled between them.  John tried to think of what to say, but he was a loss. Instead he just looked at Sherlock with a look of both exasperation and adoration.

Sherlock opened one eye to stare up at him.

“You still want to kiss me though.” Another statement. John grinned and leaned down and kissed Sherlock lightly on the mouth. He could almost hear purring from Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock weakly lifted a hand to John’s face but gave up and let it fall back after a moment. They kissed, slowly and carefully. John was making a mental map of Sherlock’s lips but had to stop himself after gently biting his lower lip.

“Nooo,” Sherlock whined as John pulled away. John chuckled and settled himself on his own pillow.

“Sherlock Holmes,” he mused aloud “despite what everyone says, you do have a heart.” Sherlock laughed sarcastically and swatted a hand before going limp and falling against John’s chest.

“Of course I have a heart. Caring is simply a dangerous disadvantage and I just cant help myself with an idiot like you and oh, I’ve said such idiotic things. Thank god I wont remember.”

“Who says I’m letting you forget?”

“Wh-what?” Sherlock started. John hushed him in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

“Go to sleep. I’m right here, we can deal with all _this_ ,” he gestured vaguely at their entwined legs, “tomorrow.”  

“Don’t leave John, please.”

“I’m here, you’re fine. The drugs are wearing off and you should sleep like a baby.” John suddenly had the image of a young Sherlock, a toddler, speaking to him and whispering all his secrets into his ear without filter or trepidation. Just this pure stream of honest conscious, not denying the heart anything. He knew the drug was a reason all this information had surfaced, but he also had a slight suspicion the Sherlock knew what he was saying. He had found a chance to say what he wanted and to observe how John would react without fear of consequences.

“I’m fine. I’m more then fine. I’m absolutely fine.” John reached over and switched off the lamp. John grinned in spite of himself, in spite of the day, the night, the whole god damn situation that was Sherlock Holmes.

“You _sneaky_ bastard.” He muttered under his breath. Sherlock pretended not to hear, but John could feel his face move into a sly grin. John sighed and kissed Sherlock’s forehead before closing his own eyes and drifting off on his own, in the arms of  his mad flatmate, feeling dazed and confused but above all happy just to be held by someone he loved.

 


End file.
